The Balance Broken
by ChasingPerfectionTomorrow
Summary: Rumor of the next Avatar has surfaced but Mako isn't so sure Korra's really gone. A story of intrigue, broken ties mended and lost love. Rated M for language. M/K... and other pairings that are yet to be decided.
1. Chapter 1: Breaking Up

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. Of value anyway.

**Author's Note:** Hello, plot bunny. This is set after Episode 4 of Book 2, working off the premiss that when Korra disappears in that spirit 'attack', she stays disappeared... for a long time. And the Krew goes off into their separate lives while the whole world slowly but surely falls into unbalance in the wake of the Avatar's 'death'. **  
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* * *

**Chapter One: Breaking Up  
**

His fury and indignation carried him to his front door then abandoned him in favor of crippling regret. He felt sick.

Mako knew she could be irrational, hotheaded, not to mention stubborn and quick to jump to conclusions, but he also knew he loved her. She was strong, loving, loyal, and was always trying to do her best to help people –whether or not she was successful was almost irrelevant, her selflessness shown through. He couldn't imagine his world without her in it, which honestly terrified him. The idea had been what pushed him over the edge, made him say something he had never intended to say. Could he be anything without Korra? A part of him felt he needed to prove it to himself, to her, to everyone. He was more than just the Avatar's boyfriend. Wasn't he? Sometimes it felt like he'd never truly existed until he'd met Korra, and that seemed deeply wrong somehow.

He'd made her cry. He'd never thought he could do that, or that he would be so unmoved by it.

Disjointed, he sat on his couch and stared into the darkness. He knew without looking his brother wasn't home. Bolin was rarely home these days, off playing famous with Varrick. He missed their old home atop the pro-bending arena, he missed pro-bending, he missed how things were before they'd taken that fated trip to the South Pole. He missed Korra. When had it all changed? When had they all grown so far apart?

He sat there for a long time, feeling numb and lost. He should have kept his temper. Korra had been wrong, behaving as she had, trying to go behind the President's back, but so had he. Had their roles been reversed, had it been _his _parents, could he honestly say he wouldn't have done the same? Sure, Korra was the Avatar, she was supposed to be above such things, but wasn't that an awful lot to ask of a seventeen year old girl who had only been let out into the real world a year ago? Sometimes he took for granted the fact she'd been provided for and cared for her whole life, he forgot how much she'd missed out on, how lonely she must have been, how few friends she'd had.

He fell asleep thinking he would find her –probably on Air Temple Island- and they would talk about things. Their relationship needed to change, they needed to communicate better, but it didn't need to _end_.

* * *

Bolin woke him the next morning with a gentle shake.

Mako sat up, blinking blearily. He'd fallen asleep in his uniform and his skin was uncomfortably sticky.

"Wha… time is it?" he asked, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Around eight…" Bolin said. Mako immediately jumped off the couch cursing, he was late and Beifong was rarely forgiving of tardiness. Bolin gripped his shoulder tightly, pulling him back.

"Le'go Bolin! I'm late as it is!"

"Mako… you need to see this." The tremor in his brother's voice immediately sent his stomach into coils. He rounded on him and was stunned to see that Bolin's eyes were red and fresh tears threatened to escape. He held out a newspaper to him and a million possibilities flashed through his mind. None of them prepared him for the front-page headline.

'THE AVATAR BELIEVED TO HAVE BEEN KILLED DURING AN ATTEMPTED RAID ON NORTH POLE FORCES.'

Unable to breathe, he read the article half a dozen times. Boat wreckage, eye witnesses, Northern Forces demolished…

"No…" he said, hardly aware he was speaking, "No… they're wrong, there must be some sort of mistake."

A knock on the door punctuated this statement. Bolin answered it, revealing the Chief whose expression was the final nail in the coffin. She approached and held something out to him, he reached for it subconsciously. It was Korra's arm band, torn and bloody.

"I'm… I'm so sorry Mako. For you, for all of us."

Mako hadn't cried since his parent's death, and he didn't cry now. Instead he felt his insides crumble and he thought he could almost hear his heart break, a dry snap in the oppressive silence. His mind mocked him; _are you anything without Korra?_

* * *

_7 years later….._

"C'mon Mako, let's be reasonable here…"

Mako took a deep drag from his cigarette, billowing out a cloud of smoke into the frigid winter air, and smiled. The weasely little man before him instantly quieted and fear darkened his wrinkled face.

"Jung, we have a very… _special_ sort of relationship, wouldn't you agree?" Jung opened his mouth to respond but Mako ignored him, tossing his cigarette butt and lighting another with the air of a man who had all the time in the world, "Part of that relationship is based on a mutual interest, an _understanding_. Now, if suddenly that understanding no longer existed well… I'm afraid I no longer have a use for our correspondence."

Jung swallowed, pressing further into the shadows of the alleyway as though the darkness might protect him, the thumping music from inside the club permeated the silence between them. Mako was an intimidating figure in a long black trench coat, he often reminded Jung of childhood stories his Grammy used to tell him about the grim reaper.

"You don't know how much harder it's gotten… how tight things are becoming. I hardly have any wiggle room, everyone is suspect these days, if the Lady were to find out I'm the one leaking information…"

Mako waved a hand, half his face hidden by his low set hat, his cigarette a bright, angry focal point that lit his ember eyes and scruffy face with each long inhale. The man smoked faster than anyone Jung had ever met. He'd also never met someone so hell bent on getting himself killed. Half the police force had been bought out since Chief Beifong's disappearance two years ago and those who hadn't been were far too afraid to rise up against them. Only Mako, and a handful of others, dared stick their noses into the dealings of the Lady and the other organized crime leaders. Lieutenant Mako was the sort of man who didn't have anything to lose, and that made him very dangerous.

"Calm down Jung, you're well paid and I've over looked all of your little… fractures of the law over the years, but that can change." Mako, a head taller than Jung, took a calculated step forward."Right now."

Trembling, Jung steeled himself. How had he gotten himself into this mess? One measly count of grand theft and he'd practically rolled over and wet himself, now he was a spy against the most terrifying woman in the world. He lived on a damned fine line.

"Consider the fact that at least you have a chance the Lady will never find out what you've told me… get thrown in jail and I think a number of your old compatriots might have a grudge or two."

The bastard had a point. Jung sagged in defeat. Die now or die later, he supposed.

"Rumor has it, among the Lady's councilors anyway, that… that she may have found the… the Avatar."

Mako's reaction was immediate. Like a tiger suddenly let out of its cage. Snarling, he reached out with a leather gloved hand and gripped Jung tightly by the throat, lifting him several feet off the ground. His angular face, unshaven and hard, was distorted in a blind sort of rage that was almost more shocking than being strangled. Almost.

"_What_ did you just say?"

Jung tugged desperately at his grip, gasping for breath until Mako seemed to return to himself and lowered him back to the ground. It took several moments for Jung to recover in which Mako silently smoked two more cigarettes. Jung noted a tremble in the officer's hand and filed the information away for later use. He'd never seen the man lose his composure; interesting indeed. He'd tried to dig up some information about the Lieutenant's past a few years back, when the whole awful mess had started, and run straight into a brick wall. The man's past was clenched up tighter than Jung's ex-wife's legs.

"That's the rumor anyway," he choked out when he could finally breathe again, "they say they found her in some piece of shit earth kingdom village. The Lady had her brought to their secret holding in Ba Sing Se." Mako's eyes narrowed dangerously, "Don't even ask, I have no idea where that might be. You forget, I've fallen out of favor recently. Thanks to you."

A light snow began to fall and Jung rubbed at his aching throat, shuddering against the chill. Bastard could have at least let him grab a coat before summoning him out of his own club like he was the sprits- damned Fire Lord. The silence persisted long enough that Jung seriously considered just walking away, consequences be damned –the younger man wasn't the sort you typically wanted to turn your back to but it was better than freezing to death.

"Alright. Alright, that all you know?"

Jung hesitated briefly before deciding to let his dice fall as they may, he didn't have much left to lose at this point anyway. After tonight, he had a feeling his days were numbered.

"Yeah… one more thing. There's a rumor circulating that the little Airbender girl, the one the Lady kidnapped all those years ago, is gone, missing, and maybe dead but my sources seem to think otherwise."

Mako's shoulders tensed, "Where was she last seen, do you know?"

"Not really, though a few people among the inner circle seem to think she was being held in Omashu. But really, it could be anywhere, I always figured they kept her locked up somewhere in the city, if they still had her."

Mako stared silently into the busy street, the capital building gleaming several blocks away through the smog. Satomobiles whizzed by in the growing snow fall, turning soft white into gray sludge that condensed along the frozen curbs. It was going to be a rough winter, in more ways than one.

"Thank you," he said finally, in a tone that said their conversation was over. Jung breathed a sigh of relief and shaking, made his way toward the back door, ready for a drink and the warm company of a willing –mostly- female body.

"Oh, and Jung," the little man paused, heart in his throat, "We won't be meeting again."

Jung swallowed through the knot in his throat, not sure how to take that statement, and turned to find the other man had already gone. Only a faint cloud of smoke indicated he had ever been there.

"Good luck, kid," he found himself saying, even more surprised by the fact that he actually meant it. Shaking his head incredulously, he went back inside, feeling somehow lighter than he had before.

* * *

Jinora realized quickly that Republic City was not the same city from her childhood. It was bigger, dirtier and more sullen under the lucrative coating of money and greed. She drew her thread bare coat around her thin shoulders and stepped off the train along with a crowd of singularly focused people who jostled and shoved with little regard to those around them. She already felt panicky and once free of the mob, found a quieter corner of the station to gather herself. She needed to keep it together.

"New in town I see," said a voice to her right.

She jumped in alarm and found a smartly dressed man in suit and hat, maybe a few years older than her, grinning from across the way. There was a familiar gleam in his eye she immediately didn't like; the gleam of a hunter who had found its prey. Rather than respond she headed quickly back toward the gate that led to the street outside. The man was quicker. He braced a hand on a large pillar, baring her path and loomed over her, grinning like a cat.

"Don't be rude now sweetheart, that ain't no way to make it in a town like this," he reached out and brushed his hand over her arm, sending a shock through her whole body. He smelled of cheap aftershave and alcohol. How dare he touch her, how dare he remind her of everything she wanted to forget. She felt frozen, all her shaky resolve leaving her in the face of her memories. The man seemed to sense her crumbling and grinned. He took her firmly by the arm.

"Why don't you come with me and I'll take you some place where we can both get… _warm_." His voice had taken on an oily quality, heavy with sickening innuendo.

_Run Jinora, _her mind screamed, _you swore you would never let it happen again, you swore you would be strong._

She made a faint attempt to escape as the man half drug her to the street outside, but he ignored her. Jinora looked wildly at the people around her for help but no one would look at her, it was as though she and her captor didn't exist at all. She struggled again, more determined this time as the man's pace quickened, and this time his grip tightened till pain laced through her arm and she cried out. He rounded on her and struck her across the face with the back of his hand, only the vice grip on her arm kept her from falling. Some deep instinct revolted, cried out to use her bending but she pushed it aside. Better to be beaten then discovered.

"Scream again little girl and I'll slit your throat," he shook her, hard; "You get me?"

She licked her lip, tasting blood, and nodded. He smirked and pulled her along once more. They were nearly to the end of the street –Earth Kingdom Crossing, if her faint memories were to be trusted- when a voice rang out.

"Hey! You! Stop right there!"

Jinora's heart leapt as the man cursed and took off at a run, pulling Jinora along with him.

"I said stop you bastard! Let that girl go!" a man's voice persisted and Jinora tried to look over her shoulder and stumbled. Her captor cursed again and yanked her forward so hard she slipped on the icy sidewalk and nearly sent them both tumbling.

"Damnit Bo, let em go, who gives a shit?" said another voice.

Footsteps drew on them and Jinora dug her feet in, "Let. Me. Go!" She ground out, suddenly filled with furry and she lashed out one booted foot. She caught her kidnapper at his knee and he fell with a grunt and released her with a snarl.

"Bitch," he said and looked from her to whoever approached them, and took off down an alley at an ambling limp. Jinora's legs gave way as adrenaline faded. She collapsed on the frozen ground just as her rescuer arrived with his unwilling companion in toe.

"Shit, are you okay ma'am." He asked and knelt beside her. He put his hand on her shoulder and she flinched away. He retracted immediately.

"I-I'm fine," she managed before she burst into tears. The weight of her long captivity, her harrowing escape, and her desperate journey caught up with her and she was powerless to stop the wave of fear, loneliness, anger and frustration.

"Spirits, why do you _always_ have to get yourself involved Bo?!" the other man demanded, Jinora looked toward him but could only make out an expensive red coat through her tears.

"What can I say, I have a weakness for women in distress," said Bo and he knelt before her holding out a kerchief. Jinora accepted it, embarrassed by her breakdown, and mopped her face. Her embarrassment only increased when she drew back the white cloth and realized how dirty she was. Fantastic.

"Thank you… for your help-"she stopped mid-sentence when she at last looked into the handsome face of her would be hero. Her heart stopped.

"Bo-Bolin?" She could hardly believe it. He looked just as she remembered him, except his hair was longer and his clothes much nicer. He was the most gorgeous thing she had ever seen. He was a little piece of home.

"And of course she would be one of your fan girls," said his companion, a blonde man with an aristocratic face and unsympathetic blue eyes. He looked at her like she was something he'd found stuck on the bottom of his shoe.

"Can't blame the girl for having good taste, can you Fin?" Bolin teased and Jinora retracted herself. He didn't recognize her; maybe it was better that way.

"Here now, let's get you out of the street eh?" He stood and offered her his hand with a charming smile. She hesitated briefly before accepting his hand, eyes downcast.

"If you're looking for somewhere to stay there's a very nice hotel, if I do say so myself," he threw her a wink, "a few blocks from here. We can escort you there-"

"Bo! We're already late as it is," Fin protested, glaring at Jinora accusingly. She quickly removed her hand from Bolin's when she realized he still held it gently in his. Bolin didn't seem to notice.

"Don't be such an ass Fin, it'll only take a minute and I've had enough of Varrick's parties to last me a lifetime."

They started walking west along the street before Jinora came to her senses and stopped, "I don't have much money." She didn't have any, actually, "I can't afford anything very, uh nice." She eyed his clothing dubiously. Fin let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes. Bolin ignored him.

"Not to worry Miss…"

"Er, Peony," she supplied with only a seconds hesitation. It had been the name of her only friend during her imprisonment. The friend she had ultimately gotten killed.

Bolin smiled again and she averted her eyes, "Not to worry Miss Peony, I own this particular hotel and you're my honored guest."

"Please, I don't wish to be any more of an inconvenience-"

"Not at all," Bolin interrupted sternly, "It's my pleasure. You really need to be more careful in the City Miss Peony, not the sort of place to be out and wandering on your own at night." He sounded accusatory. "You don't have any friends or family you could call on?"

She looked blankly across the sprawling city, tall buildings, and bright lights familiar yet somehow totally alien and said, "No, I have no one." And it was painfully true. Maybe it wasn't Republic City that had changed, maybe it was her.

"Spirits, can we at least grab a drink at the bar then?" Fin complained.

Bolin looked down at her and asked, "How about it Miss Peony, feel like a night on the town after you've freshened up?"

She hesitated, more tempted then she wanted to admit, and shook her head, she needed to lay low. As much as it stung to not have Bolin recognize her, she knew it was for the best. "I-I've had a long trip, I'd just like to rest… if that's alright?"

"Of course," he said gently and there was something in his bright green eyes that made her cheeks flush.

They were silent the rest of their journey which ended before a modestly sized building painted in earth tones with a whimsical sort of sign proclaiming 'Bo's Rest' over the door, which Bolin held open for her and ushered her inside with a gentle press of his fingers against her upper arm. She could feel their heat through her threadbare clothing. She was suddenly very conscious of her baggy trousers and dirty, hanging shirt. The hotel was quaint, homey, and gloriously warm. Jinora loved it instantly and sighed in relief. Fin immediately made toward a wide set of open doors that displayed a well stocked bar without a single glance in her direction. Bolin was speaking to a uniformed man with a badge that proclaimed him the hotel manager while Jinora waited awkwardly in some sort of receiving room.

Bolin returned with a warm smile, his smart looking manager in toe. "Huen here will show you to your room. I've arranged for some clothes and dinner to be sent up, you just let him know if there is anything else you need."

Overwhelmed by this unexpected kindness, Jinora felt tears form in her eyes, "I-I don't know how to thank you… I-"

"You can have dinner with me, tomorrow night." Bolin supplied instantly. Jinora was stunned, suddenly suspicious he did in fact recognize her, but she saw no duplicity in his handsome, honest features. She blushed despite herself, flattered.

"I –um, I don't know what to say…"

"A yes would work just fine," he said, all smiles.

"Y-yes?" She lied. She would only stay the night then she needed to disappear again.

Bolin's face lit up and he stepped aside to allow Huen to lead her up a short flight of steps.

"Until tomorrow night Miss Peony!" He called after them and Jinora took one last, long look, committing his face and smile to memory, sure she would never see either again.


	2. Chapter 2: So You Had a Bad Day?

**Chapter Two: So You Had a Bad Day?**

Mako woke with a snap. He sat gasping and sweating in the darkness, only the acid green of his alarm clock cut through the black. Four in the morning, only two hours of sleep; awesome. He flopped back on his pillows with a groan. He couldn't remember what the dream –nightmare?- had been about, but the feelings of dread, helplessness and anger sat heavy in his stomach. _Her_ name was like a whisper in the dark, the dull toll of a distant bell. It vibrated through him, spirits, he could practically feel her in his damned bones.

_Korra_.

When was the last time he had thought about her, really? He'd buried that pain so deep and so hard that it had become some core part of him, like breathing or blinking. It drove him, it motivated him, but it worked behind the scenes so he could almost, _almost_, forget she had ever existed at all. He couldn't even clearly picture her face, her voice, her smile.

Sleep just wasn't gonna happen. He groped in the darkness for a pack of smokes, knocking over a few glasses and cans to join the general mess on the floor. Of the four packs on his nightstand all of them were empty. His lungs ached with need and he fumbled out of bed, groping his way into the living room, not bothering to switch on any lights.

The apartment was the same one he'd originally leased with his brother practically a life time ago –the same place he'd once made love to the Avatar in, not that he thought about that anymore-, before Bolin had taken off as movie star and their lives had run completely separate and parallel existences. The place was a disaster but he didn't care, didn't even see it. No one came here and he didn't have the time or motivation to be tidy. He found his salvation like a beacon in the night, lit by a stray beam of moonlight on the filth ridden dining table. Selecting the only unsmashed one of the bunch, he lit up and opened the kitchen window, perching a hip against the dishes filled sink.

The only good thing about his shit hole of an apartment was the view. He was on the sixth floor and his building was set on a slight hill which allowed Republic City to spread about him like grungy tree roots. Sometimes, after a particularly heinous day and too much sake, he felt like he held the whole damned world on his shoulders, that the only thing keeping the city from teetering over and into the abyss was him. It was egotistical maybe, but it was also truer than he wanted to admit. And he didn't have a fucking clue why he tried so hard. He was like a warrior without a battle, just smashing and breaking and clenching where he could. It rarely made a difference, but this was his city, this was his home, it was all he had left.

The air was frigid against his bare chest but he welcomed its touch, it cleared the residual grime of his dream and he felt clearer, more alert. From across the main drag he could see the harbor and, like a ghost in the surf, he found the decapitated statue of Avatar Aang. Sprits, when had that happened? Seemed like ages ago but it had happened the same year the Chief had gone missing, when things had gone from bad to fucked. Just two short years for their tenuous hold to capsize; he felt like the last man standing.

_Korra._

For a split second, he could almost see the statue as it was, he could almost see Air Temple Island before it had been ransacked and taken over by the Lady's men. He could almost see himself as he was, before everything had gone to shit, before he'd lost _her,_ and then it was gone and only the familiar, dull ache in his chest remained.

Fucking Jung.

He'd mastered the ability to careful catalog his thoughts and feelings into the 'useful' and the 'useless' years ago, it was what made him so good at his job –for whatever that was worth- and Jung had managed to bring out the worst of those smothered emotions in the space of a breath. And he wasn't even sure why. Maybe it was because Jung had threatened the one, dangling hope he still had, a hope he'd never spoken of aloud, not in years. Beifong would have told him he was being a sentimental dumbass, but his gut –which he'd learned to rely on more than anything else over the course of his career- told him otherwise. It told him that Korra was alive. Nothing had added up after her death. A body had never been found, the supposed witness had vanished, and the attack on the Northern Forces turned out to be bullshit. He'd search for years, he'd turned over every stone, followed even the vaguest lead, and nothing, not a whisper. He'd let it go, but he'd never truly given up. Until last night.

Either way, this 'Avatar' rumor bore looking into; it wasn't the first, but for Jung to practically shit his pants over it told him something. The Lady in possession of the Avatar was just about the worst thing he could think of. Ba Sing Se was a _little_ out of his jurisdiction, but that hadn't stopped him in the past. It was time to call in a few favors. Starting, of course, with his dear baby brother. His grin was borderline sardonic.

* * *

Bolin was annoyed and trying not to show it. He also had a whale of a hangover, Fin be damned.

"Now, I think this will be our biggest production yet!" Varrick said, squatting like a richly dress frog on his massive desk.

"That's what you said about the last _three_ films 'Rick. Maybe it's time to face the facts, I'm past my prime." Bolin said half wishing it were true. His film ratings _had _been dropping but he was convinced it had more to do with the scripts and production than his talents.

Stardom had lost a great deal of its luster over the past few years. That can happen when you find out the money you'd made for the movie companies was being used to traffic humans, drugs and weapons to some of the worst criminals in the world. Bolin wasn't exactly white as snow when it came to legalities, but he sure as hell wasn't a supporter of slavery and forced prostitution. A dirty, frightened, surprising pretty, face fluttered through his thoughts. Why, he'd just recently heroically saved a woman from such a fate.

He smiled at the memory.

"The impending implosion of your acting career is hardly anything to be smug over," Varrick huffed, careening over his desk. The man was spry; age certainly hadn't slowed him down.

Bolin sighed and rose from his purple feathered chair –Varrick's latest decretory obsession- and put his hands on his hips. It was time to be authoritative.

"Listen, we've worked together a long time Varrick. I've made us both rich- don't deny it!" He said when Varrick looked ready to protest, "But I need a break. I'm _tired_ of all the drama, the politics, the back stabbing. I need a vacation, a long one."

Varrick's shoulders sagged and he twisted one end of his elaborate mustache in thought. He paced behind his desk and posed regally before his huge office window that overlooked the entirety of Republic City. He looked like a stuffed peacock-lizard.

"Very well Mr. Bolin," he said at last with an exaggerated sweep of his overcoat. Bolin suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and attempted to appear _deeply_ grateful. "I can see that you are tired and in need of some revitalization! Perhaps a trip the Ember Isles! Or the underground spas in Omashu!"

Bolin cleared his throat hastily, "I'm sure I will think of something, but I'd prefer to not let the whole world know. Would sort of ruin the point if I had the press following me around everywhere."

"Of course, of course, just be sure to tell me where you're off to and a general time for your return and I'll plan our next big move! I was thinking another action film, how do you feel about playing an ancient Earth King?" Varrick formed his hands into a square and sized him up, "I think you'd be brilliant."

"Sure Varrik, whatever you think, you're the creative genius," Bolin said and began backing away, eager to make his retreat.

"Great, perfect, stupendous. Now get out, I'm very busy and important."

Bolin made a dash for the door.

"ZHU LI!" Varrick bellowed and Bolin dodged to the side as a mousy woman darted into the office, slamming the door behind her. Bolin cringed, even after seven years he still felt actively sorry for that woman.

Feeling gloriously unburdened and thrilled at the prospect of dinner with his sweet damsel in distress, he glided down the hall. Things, per usual, were going his way.

He was nearly to the lift when an errand boy accosted him with a note. He took it with a frown, hardly even glancing at the boy, who, realizing there was no tip, made a face and loped off. It was from Huen. He ripped the envelope open and frowned.

_'Sir,'_ it read, in elegant script,_ 'you asked me to tell you if the young lady left the hotel. She has, and she's taken possession of your favorite motor bike. Sincerely, Huen'_

Bolin was stunned, he couldn't believe it. The sweet, naïve girl from the previous night couldn't possibly have stolen his most precious possession. The first bike he had ever owned, the bike he managed to work into half the movies he'd ever made. It was his good luck charm. There had to be some sort of mistake. He'd get to the bottom of things, and soon, everything would be back on track.

* * *

Mako had intended to go directly to Bolin's condo –likely to wait him out as he doubted the kid was ever home- but was waylaid by a triple homicide as soon as he stepped into his office.

He collected Benni, his most senior detective, and they left the station with lights and sirens blasting.

"You look like shit," Benni said. She was a pretty woman, small, petite, dark haired and blue eyed . She was also a formidable metal bender and she had the occasional habit of scaring the shit out of him. She reminded him of Lin.

"Thanks Ben, you too."

"Don't be an ass, I'm serious. What's up?"

"You mean aside from the fact this is the third triple homicide in a month?"

Benni rolled her eyes and glared, "Please. We've had more and you've seen worse and you never bat an eyelash. Don't try and tell me you've grown a heart over night."

Mako pretended to look affronted, "I'm offended Benni, I have a heart. I have several, I keep them in jars at home."

"Ha, ha, HA. Fine be all broody and mysterious. Does that really work for the ladies?"

"That and my _enormous-"_

"Oh sprits _please_, not the sort of visual I need first thing in the morning."

"I was going to say paycheck," he said and made a sharp turn down Frost Street. He could see a sea of lights a few blocks ahead.

"Alright, keep your damn secrets, but I'll find out one way or another. I always do." Benni said and threw her shoulder length hair into a messy pony tail.

They parted a sea of spectators with a series of loud honks and a few chosen curse words issued by Ben through her window. Detective Wren was waiting for them.

The man's face was pale and Mako frowned. Wren was well seasoned and anyone who had worked on the force for long didn't scare easily. Wren was also one of the few people –to include Benni- that he trusted.

"That bad?" Ben asked at a whisper. Half the street was taped off, the area surrounded by law enforcement and medical vehicles.

"Well it sure as hell isn't pretty." Wren said, sweeping his hat off his head to rub at his balding scalp wearily, "Two women one child, looks like Avatar Blood was involved."

Mako cringed and Benni made a sound of disgust. Avatar Blood was the worst of the worst as far as illegal substances went. It briefly gave the user the use of all four elements –only the Lady's evil scientists seemed to know how _that_ worked- as well as spiritual delusions and hallucinations. Dangerous stuff.

"Selling or using?" Mako asked. He could see Captain Seeley across the scene in his expensive gray fedora, talking to the press. Spirits-damned poster boy. Any investigation Seeley was on, immediately went to shit, wrapped in a bright political bow. Today was headed straight to hell; he rubbed a hand over his face, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Both," Wren was saying, and he leaned in close, eyes darting, "Inspector Daniels thinks they're escaped prostitutes, kid was only a few years old, likely born addicted to the stuff. Figures the ladies tried to get smart, stole some of the drugs, ran out of whatever underground brothel they were holed up in, and tried to make a little money and get out of here. Looks like water bender work too, probably drowned."

"Hardly anything uncommon here Wren, prostitutes die every day, what the hell is all the fuss about?" Benni asked, hands on slim hips; her metal bending attire shone beneath her winter coat.

"Well one of the ladies… well, looks like she might have been the President's daughter…"

"_Fuck." _ Mako said violently and tore away from the two detectives.

_Fuck_. That had been one of his most prestigious cases –perhaps _the_ most- and also his worst failure. President Raiko's daughter, who'd been fifteen at the time, had been kidnapped during a rally –in which she had been an active participant- protesting the release of Quan Lu Fen, one of the Lady's most brutal enforcers. Some of her friends, the ones who had survived the fire fight, had told detectives they'd seen the girl, Jain, shoved into a black Satomobile driven by a man dressed in white. No one had seen her since. Mako had worked for two years on that case before it had gone cold.

Ducking under the tape and pushing aside two grim faced officers Mako took in the scene with careful calculation. Two women, both under twenty and a child, probably three or four years old. The first woman was facing him, on her belly, dressed in the sort of dress you expected to see in a night club or brothel –tight, cheap, fabric in bright colors. She was pretty in a made up sort of way, her cosmetics smeared and her dark eyes glassy with death. The child had been covered with a blanket, probably some rookie who couldn't bear to stare at it any longer. He didn't blame them; it was a hell of a thing to see. He was more interested in the other woman, who lay sprawled almost elegantly on her back, dressed in a slinky black dress with her white face turned away from him.

He'd looked at a thousand different pictures of Jain over the years, he knew it was her even before he stepped around the evidence markers and saw her face. He closed his eyes. The hits just kept coming. Benni was suddenly standing beside him.

"Anyone know if the kid is hers?" He asked with his eyes still closed.

"No, they won't know till they've examined her. But I think so, little girl looks like her, same eyes and nose."

"Captain Dick Face over there telling the press who we've got?"

Benni snorted but it lacked all humor, "Na, Daniels threatened him with castration if he said one damned word about it."

"Which means it will be in tomorrow's paper?"

"Probably." Benni sighed deeply, "So, it's really her then?"

"Yeah," Mako said, staring into Jain's light gray, vacant eyes –she'd been such a lovely, spirited girl, smart and talented. "It's really her."

"Sprits. Can it get any worse? Can't even remember why I joined the damned force anymore," she confessed in a rare moment of honest emotion.

Mako hesitated briefly before saying, "Remember those secrets you wanted to know."

They watched as four somber faced medics began to place the bodies in bags while Mako told her what he'd heard from Jung.

"Spirits Mako, you think it's true? There have been a million rumors since Avatar Korra died," Benni said, her eyes locked on the medics as they situated the bodies onto stretchers. She didn't see the pained expression he couldn't quite keep off his face. The bag holding the body of the little girl was tragically small and vulnerable. Man, the world was so screwed up.

For the first time in years Mako actively missed Korra, the emotion was so strong, so raw, and so unexpected he had to bite back a groan of pain. She'd always been so… _active_, right or wrong she would have had an answer, a plan. Maybe if she were alive none of this would have happened.

_It's all your fault_.

"-ako, earth to Lieutenant Maaaako," Benni waved a hand in front of his face and he jerked to attention. He shook the pain aside. Spirits, he couldn't fall to pieces now.

"Sorry, long night. What were you saying?"

"I was _saying_ that we can't jump through hoops every time one of the big crime lords, or 'ladies' in this case, claim to have found the Avatar."

"Yeah, but you didn't see Jung, Ben, he was acting like the Lady herself was about to jump out of the shadows and slit his throat. Jung's info has always been just about spot on, coming from him, I'm prone to believe it. Or at least say it deserves some looking into."

"You're not going to do something potentially stupid and illegal again, are you?" She asked him seriously, her voice disapproving but her eyes eager.

He was saved from creating a convincing lie by none other than Captain Dick Head himself.

"Case solved at last, eh Mako?" Seeley said. His handsome face was cut with a charming smile that didn't reach his intelligent, calculating eyes. Seeley was the Chief's star pupil, a deadly earth and metal bender whose ego was almost as big as his brand new office. Mako's fists tightened reflexively. He hated this man almost as much as he hated the thugs who'd killed Jain.

"Off preening for the press I see. Good of you to leave the real work to the professionals." He shot back, not in the mood for Seeley's shit, not today. Benni put a restraining hand on his arm and he shrugged her off angrily.

Seeley laughed, "You're such a tight ass Mako, loosen up, live a little. Chief is giving this case to me and _my_ team, maybe you ought to take a nice vacation, think about a new career path maybe. Yours obviously isn't going anywhere."

"Like hell he is, Jain Veren is _my _case, I've got the history, the notes, the background-"

"Don't forget the failure, _Lieutenant _Mako, or the embarrassment to the entire police force. Chief Zhane wants this case in more capable, _successful_ hands. Why don't you go back to chasing speeders and writing parking tickets?"

Mako growled and they were suddenly standing toe to toe, Benni yanking urgently on his coat sleeve. He ignored her.

"Let's do this Seeley, you and me. I can't think of anything more relaxing than frying your sorry, brown nosing ass from here to the South Pole. "

Seeley smiled calmly, but he didn't step away and his eyes were steely, "As fun as that sounds, I think I'll just settle for fucking your ex-girlfriend."

Mako snarled and shoved the snide bastard as hard as he could, taking deep satisfaction in watching the other man lose his footing and crash into a group of stunned regulars. How dare he bring up Asami, the prick.

"Lieutenant!" A hard voice clipped out and Mako felt his balls drop into his boots. Perfect, fucking perfect. He sagged in defeat.

"I was _trying_ to tell you," Benni whispered angrily.

"Yeah…thanks a lot Ben."

Benni glared at him sourly but said nothing as Chief Zhane approached them looking down right murderous. Seeley was on his feet again, adjusting his fancy gray coat and looking smug, the bastard. He should have punched him in his pretty face.

"Do you want to tell me what the hell is going on here or do I even care?" the Chief asked, Mako opened his mouth but Zhuan stepped all over him, "This is a crime scene not a sprits damned school yard. If you can't act like a professional Lieutenant Mako, then get the fuck off my crime scene!"

"But sir!-" He protested, stung.

"I don't want to hear it! Not a fucking word! I'll see you in my office tomorrow morning, Lieutenant. You're dismissed; I don't want to see your sorry ass for the rest of the day. Am I clear?"

"Chief, this is my case, you can't just-"

"Out!" Zhuan bellowed, his thick jawed face beat red in anger, "Say another word and I'll take your badge right here in front of the whole damned city."

Beyond furious, Mako turned and stalked away, pulling his hat low over his brow. Steam rose with each step as fire bristled around his boots. He shoved past stunned police officers, detectives and civilians alike, not caring what direction he went so long as he got the hell away before he blew the whole damned street sky high.

And he still needed to find his little brother. He rounded the street corner and headed west with a purpose.

* * *

Jinora hadn't _intended_ to steal the bike but when faced with the option of traveling moneyless or 'borrowing' one of the many motorbikes lined up inside the motel garage, she'd taken her chances. She'd picked the oldest, most beat up looking of the lot and figured Bolin wouldn't notice it was missing. Besides, she fully intended to return it… someday. Not that she didn't feel terribly guilty, after how kind he had been, how accommodating and understanding, but she had a mission, a duty. She couldn't afford to be distracted. She'd left everything else behind, including the clothing he'd sent out for –simple but fine, beautiful dresses that she couldn't very well travel in- out of recompense.

It had taken some trial and error –she'd never ridden a motorbike before- but eventually she made it to the bay. She was stunned by what she saw. Her grandfather's statue was headless and desecrated, but that wasn't the worst of it, the once proud tower of Air Temple Island was demolished, gone, like it had never existed at all.

Standing with her tear lined face turned into the biting sea wind, the night of her capture came back to her in a violent flood.

* * *

_"Jinora hurry!" Ikki cried fearfully over the mayhem, a blurry figure in the smoke filled building. Her lungs burned and her legs trembled. How could this be happening?_

_She took her sister's outstretched hand and they stumbled out of the women's lodgings. Outside was utter chaos. Air acolytes ran screaming in fear and pain as fire swept through the buildings. Thugs, dressed in black with bright red flowers pinned to their chests, sent volleys of fire, ice and rock shards into the fray. Where were her parents? Where were her brothers?_

_She and Ikki Airbent themselves into the sky. Jinora sent a violent blast of air into a gang of men ripping the clothes off women she had spent her whole life with, who had helped to raise and teach her. Fury rose in her like a hurricane and wind burst from within her and flew in all directions, blowing out fires, and stunning those attackers closest to them. _

_"Jinora! Look!" Ikki cried suddenly. _

_She followed Ikki's finger to where their father stood surrounded, Airbending his way through the fray, their mother cowering desperately at his back with tiny Rohan and Meelo holding their own against a seemingly endless stream of gangsters. _

_"We have to help!" Jinora cried and she prepared herself to air launch them across the distance. _

_Suddenly she found herself falling, the ground inexplicable rushing up to meet her, and only barely managed to summon a pad of air to slow her fall. Ikki was not so lucky and hit the ground with a strangled scream that cut off sharply. Jinora's blood went cold as she called her sister's name, tearing at her smoke burnt throat. She rushed toward her still form but a giant man, dressed not in black, but perfect, brilliant white, stepped in her path. _

_"What an honor to meet you, Jinora." The man said very calmly, as if the whole world weren't falling apart around them. He had a bald head and he wore dark lenses over his eyes. He was the biggest man she had ever seen and she didn't hesitate to blast a torrent of tunneled wind at him. He lifted one hand and the air she had channeled split in half and stemmed around him, dissipating harmlessly. Jinora was stunned._

_How could he… only an Airbender should have been able to perform such a move…_

_"Who are you…." She breathed, and the man grinned widely. All his teeth were gold. _

_"I am your salvation, little Airbender," he said a split second before she was struck over the head and her entire world fell into darkness. _

* * *

And that's where she had lived, for seven long years, in the embrace of shadows. Alone and forgotten, never knowing if her family was alive or dead. Hatred, anger and sadness threatened to overwhelm her but Jinora closed her eyes and willed her spirit into calmness. She couldn't fall apart; she had a mission, a purpose. She had to get to the North Pole, she had to find her father -if he was still alive; she had to tell him what she knew.

She opened her eyes again and they were hard and fearless. She was no longer a frightened little girl.

"You know, it's not nice to steal," said a voice from behind her and Jinora whirled in alarm.

Bolin was leaning against his stolen bike looking as ruggedly handsome as the night before. Her heart skipped a beat and heat rushed through her body. His eyes, previously kind and understanding, were sharp and unforgiving. Jinora swallowed hard. She shouldn't have stopped to look, she should have kept going. Spirits, she was an idiot.

"Bo-Bolin, please allow me to explain, I'm-"

"Save your breath, harpy," he said, raising one hand,"Tell it to the police. My sources already informed me of who you really are." Fear shot through her, he knew? Would he really turn her over the Lady? Had so much truly changed in the time she'd been held captive?

Bolin sneered at her "An escaped gang thief on the run. Your little 'helpless' act was very convincing I must say. You deserve a Verrik Award, I've seen some great actors in my time, but none quite so good as you."

Jinora blinked at him in confusion. What kind of lies were these? He stepped toward her then, his stance threatening, and fear of recapture sent her in a wild dash across the pier. A wall of earth shot up before her and years of training, both before her capture and alone in her cell, took over. Lithe and weightless she dodged to one side and she heard Bolin curse behind her as she darted off. The people around them –the port was a busy place- cried out in alarm, milling to avoid the conflict. Bolin raised a few more walls in her path, which she avoided easily, much to Bolin's obvious dismay. Jinora found she was almost enjoying herself. It had been a long time since she'd used her skills, it reminded her of home.

Rock shackles suddenly formed out of the ground mid spin and latched themselves firmly to her feet. He was _good_. Jinora pitched painfully forward and pulled useless at her ankles. Looking desperately over her shoulder she watched mesmerized as Bolin stalked toward her, the obvious fury on his face somehow making him more handsome.

She quickly came to her senses when he bent her down to her knees. Desperate and unnerved she did something very stupid.

With a violent cry she sent a wild torrent of wind at him, knocking him roughly back and he hit the pier railing _hard_. The earthen bindings disintegrated and they stared at one another in utter shock.

_You're such an idiot._

"Who-who _are_ you?" He breathed in awe.

Jinora rose to her feet, wincing on aching ankles. She looked at him for a long moment, tears forming in her eyes.

"I'm…" she trailed off. She couldn't tell him, as much as she wanted to, she knew she couldn't trust him. She had to get out of here before _they_ found her.

"I'm… no one," she whispered, met his searching gaze for a moment more, and then darted into the growing crowd.


	3. Chapter 3: Coming Together&Falling Apart

**Authors Note**: So I gotta be honest, I expected this story to be AU pretty quickly, but after watching Episode 6 last night, apparently me and Byrke exist on the same wave length. In other news, if you love LoK... don't follow it on Tumblr. Just a word from the wise. I was shocked how much hate there is in the fandom. I could go into my opinions on the show, some of which aren't entirely positive, but frankly if I didn't like it, I wouldn't waste my time writing hate filled posts on the internet. I'd stop watching the damn show.

Thank you from the bottom of my twisted soul to the few people who reviewed, favorited and followed this story. Every chapter is for you, so please review, it's better than these Cheetos I'm eating as I type this. Also it doesn't get red stains on my keyboard.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Coming Together and Falling Apart**

Mako wasn't sure how long he stood staring up at the ritzy condo building –aptly named _Higher Living Spaces_- but it was long enough for the bellman to look uneasy. He was in the upper-class part of town, where the streets were clean, the Satomobiles were new, and people walked with heads held high. He hated it. After seeing Jain's cold, lifeless body tossed casually out into the street like a used tissue, he hated it even more. Arrogant assholes pretending the world wasn't going to shit while they danced at their fancy parties and spent their stolen money, it made him sick.

The long walk had served to clear his head and to make him actively concerned for his meeting with the Chief tomorrow. What the hell was happening to him? He was seriously losing his shit and it was at the most inconvenient of times, too. Maybe the pretentious ass would finally fire him. Screw it, let him, would be a weight off his shoulders, that was for sure –or so he kept telling himself.

His impending decommission wasn't what kept him standing outside his brother's building looking like some sort of love sick chump; it was memories of the past. Harsh words spoken and mistakes made, his little two person family –which he had once fought so hard to keep together- torn apart. Spirits, it had been almost a year since they'd spoken, face to face at least. There had been that unfortunate business at a bar in town and a night spent behind bars…

"Fuck it," he declared suddenly, startling the primly dressed bellman who scowled at him. Mako squared his shoulders –he was a spirits-damned police Lieutenant- and stepped into the building.

The pretty, snobby girl behind the front desk didn't want to let him up so he was forced to show her his badge. She didn't look the least bit impressed but waved him on with a disgruntled sniff. He thanked her with as much sarcastic gratitude he could muster.

Mako stepped into the lift, operated by a statuesque boy dressed in bright red with gold trim and tried to figure out what to say to his brother. Bolin was sure living the high life, if the front lobby and elevator were anything to judge by. Mako only hoped it hadn't gotten to his head anymore than it had since the last time they had spoken. He'd read somewhere that Bolin's last two films –which he hadn't watched, he never watched any of Bolin's films- had gotten poor ratings. Mako wondered if maybe that had brought him back down to earth a little. Knowing Bolin, probably not, kid had always had his head in the clouds.

They arrived on the twentieth floor, the top floor, and the bellboy let him out. He flipped the kid a coin and was rewarded with a small, grateful smile. Was a shit job if Mako ever saw one, poor guy. He'd learned a long time ago that the sort of people you wanted on your side were the ones other people –rich, self important people- tended to ignore. You wouldn't believe the stupid shit people would say in front of faceless waiters, maids, servants, cabbies, etc. It was the worst kind of arrogance, but it sure did make his job a lot easier sometimes.

Bolin's condo was the furthest one down the hall, facing the bay, and, from what he'd gathered anyway, was the biggest living space in the entire building. The carpets were lush and the walls furnished in rich reds, browns and golds that Mako would have found oppressive. Mirrors lined the hallway and he caught glimpses of his haggard appearance with each step; the bags under his eyes were getting absurd, and he really needed a shave. And a smoke.

Past mooning over things, and assuring himself he did indeed have the right room, he raised his fist to knock, and nearly struck Bolin on the head as the door swung sharply inward. They both stared at one another in shock. In Mako's case it was partly out of astonishment that his brother was actually home and partly because he looked like he'd recently been lain out to dry, or been hit by a bus, or both.

"You look like shit," they said in unison and then simultaneously frowned.

Silence fell as they sized one another up. Bolin finally broke the silence.

"So, you want a drink?"

Mako sniffed, "Yeah, mind if I smoke?"

"Only if you mind that I do."

"Great."

* * *

"Let me get this straight," Mako was saying, halfway through his second drink and his third cigarette, "You mean to tell me that you… lost a fight to a girl?"

Bolin threw his hands up, "Spirits! Do you_ have_ to be such an asshole. Are you even _listening_ to what I am saying?! This girl was an _Airbender_ Mako."

Mako scratched at his chin, "And you're sure she wasn't just doped out on AB?"

Bolin gave an exasperated sigh, "I'm a movie star Mako, I know an AB addict when I see one, trust me when I say this girl was as lucid as me and you, I mean it."

Mako smirked, "Not sure that's the best comparison." He tilted his nearly empty glass at Bolin meaningfully.

Bolin snorted and smiled grudgingly, "You may have a point, but that doesn't change the fact that this girl," he pointed a finger at him, "was the real deal."

"I still can't believe she stole Jessie-"

"Spirits, don't remind me," Bolin snapped out, face contorting from embarrassment to anger and back again. He crossed his arms sharply over his massive chest and pouted, deeply.

They were seated in a sort of office, but instead of books, Bolin had two billiard tables, a bar stocked with every alcohol Mako could think of, and a projector screen. There was a desk in one darkened corner but if the dust on the high backed leather chair was anything to go off, Mako didn't think it saw much use. Bolin had never been a very… _studious_ person. The room alone was bigger than his entire apartment, a fact which made him rather sad. Not because he was jealous, he didn't approve of such a wasteful existence, he just missed how they had once been, he and Bolin. He missed the times when things had been simpler, when they'd both merely appreciated a roof over their heads and a warm meal in their bellies.

When had he become so fucking sentimental?

"Alright, alright, so she blew some hot air at you, knocked you on your ass," Bolin shot him a seething glare, "Then what happened?"

Bolin rose from his perch on the billiard table and paced across the room to look out a row of massive bay windows.

"And then nothing, she ran. Lost her in the crowd. Mako, do you think," he hesitated, "Do you think it could have been… Jinora?"

Mako cringed visibly. The day the Air Temple Island had been attacked had been a horrible day for everyone.

"I don't know Bo… she's been gone for almost six years now. Maybe the Lady has found some way to make the effects of AB more lastin-"

Mako stopped mid sentence as Jung's words from the night before came back to him in a rush. _There's a rumor circulating that the little Airbender girl, the one the Lady kidnapped all those years ago, is gone, missing, and maybe dead but my sources seem to think otherwise._

"Shit!" Mako cried, and shot out of his chair, sending his empty drink glass to the floor where it rolled across the room. Bolin whirled in alarm, eyes darting as if expecting armed thugs to appear from under the rugs.

"I forgot!" Mako said, slapping a hand to his forehead.

"Spirits, WHAT?" Bolin demanded.

"One of my informants!" Mako insisted, as if that explained everything. "He told me he'd heard a captured Airbending girl had escaped from the Lady… with everything else going on I'd completely forgotten."

Bolin blinked and ran a hand down his face. His deep green shirt and fine black slacks looked like they'd been slept in.

"So… it was her?"

"Well, it _sounds_ like her, I mean it would make sense but… did she look like Jinora?"

Bolin thought for a moment, frowning, "I mean… I guess so? I don't really know. I mean I know she was around a lot, you know… in the _old_ days but I never paid much attention. She had really long dark hair… these really dark eyes, pale, perfectly clear skin and this soft, husky sort of voice…"

Mako rolled his eyes, "If you're done pining, do you have any idea where she might have been headed?"

Bolin scowled, his cheeks tinged pink, "No, I have no idea. I found her at the bay, staring off at Aang's statue –which makes sense now- and then she was just gone."

"Well, I know there's rumor Tenzin, Pema and the kids are hidden out somewhere in the South Pole-"

"There's also rumor they're all dead," Bolin interrupted.

"True," Mako said, "But where else would she go? And if it really _was_ Jinora, and you say she knew who you were, why wouldn't she stay here? If anyone could offer her some high level protection it's you, and of course I would have helped."

"I'd thought of that," his brother said, sounding a little defensive. "Maybe she didn't trust me, hell, maybe she _is_ working for the Lady. I mean she's been gone for a long time."

"Yeah, maybe. Do you want to look for her?"

Bolin rubbed at his jaw and shrugged, "I don't know… maybe?"

They fell into silence for a moment and Mako tried to put the pieces together. It seemed like things were coming to some sort of head, he just wasn't sure how or why… but it was definitely something. All these things happening:, rumors of a new Avatar, Jinora –allegedly- escaping, Jain's murder, the increasing provocation of the Lady, it had to all _mean_ something. A good officer, a good detective, didn't believe in coincidence or chance.

_Korra._

"Hey, Bolin?" Mako found himself asking, "Do you ever think about… about Korra?"

His brother looked stunned, but quickly masked it. Mako never talked about Korra, not in at least five years. Most people didn't know who the Avatar had been to him, he liked it that way. After all, it had only been one year and a few months out of twenty six, a very short span of time when you looked at the whole. Funny how that short time they'd spent together seemed the most important time of his life. The city, the world, had forgotten Amon, and her role in his fall. They'd forgotten how the civil war between the Water Tribes had started. They'd forgotten about Korra. Mako envied them.

"I don't know…" Bolin said, gathering himself. He looked away and out across the city, "I used to all the time, when everything first happened. I mean it was such a shock to all of us. But… it's been a long time Mako. I mean, I never really forgot her, but everything is so different now, it feels like I knew her in another life. Does that make sense?" He sounded regretful and sad.

Mako clenched his teeth, wishing he hadn't said anything, "Yeah. She… she really is gone. Isn't she?" he tried not to sound harsh and accusatory. It wasn't Bolin's fault.

"Yeah… I guess she is," Bolin said and they stood in silence, the memory of their friend – and Mako's lover- heavy between them. It really did feel like he had known her in another life. Mako didn't know if he and Korra would have worked out, if they had been meant to be. He didn't know if she was the love of his life or not, if they would have gotten married and had children. Maybe they would have ended up hating each other. It was the ever illusive and maddening '_what if_' that stuck with him that he couldn't quite shake. Because she _might_ have been the one, and now he would never know.

"You came here for something," Bolin said after more silence had passed, dragging Mako from his muddied thoughts.

"I need your help," Mako admitted, resting his forearm against the window glass and leaning his head against his fist. His breath clouded the clear surface and he was oddly tempted to draw something in the condensation. Maybe a big 'fuck you'? That was the sort of the message he felt like sending Republic City. Jain's body was still fresh in his mind. He hadn't mentioned her death to Bolin, and he knew part of the reason was pride. It had been his job to find her and he had failed, and now she was just another dead prostitute in a city at war with itself. Another woman who had needed him and he hadn't been able to protect.

"Well, that's new," Bolin said, looking rather smug. "Can't remember the last time you wanted my help with anything…ever. In fact, I distinctly remember offering you money, connections, business deal partnerships-"

"I want to go to Ba Sing Se, under cover." Mako said before Bolin could get too worked up and self-righteous. "I want to investigate these rumors about the Avatar. And it's about fucking time someone hit the Lady at home, where it hurts. I want to-"

"Save the world?" Bolin said, looking amused.

"I'm serious Bo." Mako said, "I need to get into the royal city and I need you to get me there. I need a cover."

Bolin sighed and walked over to the bar. He poured himself another healthy dose of sake and drained the glass in one long gulp. He steadied himself for a moment then resurfaced wearing a smile Mako could only describe as mischievous.

"Mako, I think it's about time you got involved in the movie business."

* * *

"And that is why, gentlemen, this merger with Far Away Industries will greatly benefit our corporation and theirs, allowing our combined products and expertise to expand across the world." Asami said graciously, finishing her speech with confident finality.

There was a smattering, but sincere round of applause and the lights switched on, revealing a long conference table in a swanky conference room. Thirteen richly dressed men sat in attendance, Asami the only woman. She was used to it. She'd fought long and hard for this moment. The male driven business world had been an uphill battle since the first day she'd inherited her father's company. Today was the mark of a long, hard war fought and an important battle won. It had only cost her her soul.

Mr. Xua, CEO of Far Away, was up and shaking her hand enthusiastically. Xua was a sweet older man whom Asami found to be honest, intelligent and refreshing. She was looking forward to working with him, and told him so.

"We're honored Miss Sato, truly. You've made this company far greater than your father ever dreamed and we look forward to working closely with such a prosperous power house as Future Industries."

"Of course Mr. Xua, I believe our merger will be in everyone's best interests." Asami said and made her way around the room, exchanging pleasantries and 'at-a-boys.

She managed to hide the sever tremor in her hands until she was back in her office. She quickly shut and locked her door, drew the window shades, and told her secretary to hold all her calls and to accept no visitors. Pain was radiating through her bones and her heart was frantic in her chest as she fumbled with the catch drawer under her desk. She extracted a slim silver needle and a small blue, glowing vial. She tugged off the stopper and filled the needle quickly. Panting heavily, sweat breaking out along her brow, saliva thick in her mouth, Asami hiked up her skirt. She spread her legs and jammed the needle deep into the artery pulsing through her right thigh. Blue fire flared in her veins and with a deep, throaty groan, she withdrew the needle and relaxed into her chair. Strength coursed into her muscles, vitality into her blood. She felt powerful, untouchable, vibrantly alive.

Opening her eyes, a deeply satisfied smile on her face, Asami bent the water out of a glass on her desk, forming it and then freezing it into the shape of a rose. She twirled its stem between her fingers, watching as the beautiful Spirit World lights reflected off its perfect petals. Still smiling, she created a pillar of flame and the rose disappeared in a puff of steam.

Her office had transformed into a parallel world, an eerie mixture of reality and otherworldly. She watched as her lamp transformed into a tree with glowing silver leaves. Jewel colored birds darted between its lush branches. Mesmerized, she summoned a light breeze and the leaves tinkled like clear, sweet bells. She smiled in pure ecstasy, relishing the visions the drug gave her.

A voice broke through her high.

"Miss Sato, I'm so sorry, but Captain Seeley is here. He says it's important."

Asami's heart unclenched and she buzzed her fiancé in. He took one look at her from the door way and shut the door with a decisive 'click'. He was looking at her as though she were a piece of fruit he desperately wanted to bite into. Riding her high, she forgot how much she hated this man.

Grinning, Guan Seeley carefully removed his jacket, folding it neatly on her desk, and set his hat a top it.

"I came here with business to discuss." He said, his teeth glittering and his handsome face aglow in her haze, "But it can wait a few minutes."

Asami's arms opened to him even as a voice somewhere buried deep inside her screamed in shame and outrage.

* * *

Isa was planning her escape even as the servants helped her into her wedding dress. There was still time; time for her to get the hell out before it was too late. Mistress Fang must have sensed her mutinous thoughts because the ghastly woman swept through the doorway, completely unannounced, while Isa stood dumbfounded in her underwear.

"Out," the older woman said. The maids dispersed immediately and Isa fought the urge to grab one of them and shield herself.

Mistress Fang circled her like a giant vulture-cat dressed in the latest and most hideous fashion.

She was the sort of woman who didn't believe in dressing her age, with too tight clothing and cosmetics condensing in the creases of her lined face. Isa found her repulsive.

"Hum, I can't understand what my son sees in you." Mistress Fang said lightly. She'd stopped somewhere behind Isa and the skin between her shoulder blades tingled. Isa resisted the urge to turn around; she knew she was expected to stand still, to stay silent. She had gotten good at being quiet.

Heels clicked on the immaculately polished floor.

"Still, you are lovely enough. Large breasts and shapely hips, And those eyes," Isa flinched as a hand shot out of seemingly nowhere to grip her chin and yank her face to one side, "Those eyes hold many secrets, that's what I think."

Isa swallowed hard and her cheeks ached where sharp fingers dug into soft flesh. Mistress Fang flashed what might have passed for a smile on a kinder face, to Isa, it looked like a snarl.

"I cannot change my son's mind on this matter, and believe me I have tried, but I can assure you… you're life will not be an easy one." One final squeeze forced a squeak out of Isa, which seemed to please her future mother-in-law, and then she was free.

Mistress Fang was half way to the door when she turned, a wicked gleam in her eyes, and said, "Welcome to the family my dear."

Isa was still crying when the maids returned. She had no more hope of escape, her fate was sealed.


End file.
